


Highly Classified

by ami_ven



Series: Highly Classified [1]
Category: NCIS, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:43:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs’s team has a jurisdictional issue with the US Air Force.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Highly Classified

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted to the LJ "writerverse" community

“What have you got, Duck?” asked Gibbs.

Ducky, kneeling beside the body of their victim, frowned. “Not much, I’m afraid, Jethro.”

“Cause of death?”

“No idea. There are clear signs of struggle, here on the knuckles, several bruises that were forming at the time of death, but nothing that would slow a fellow like this down, let alone kill him. I believe we shall have to wait for toxicology before I have any idea what happened to him.”

“But you do have a time of death?”

“Approximately—”

“—two-thirty-seven AM,” said Palmer. When they both turned to look at him, he carefully held up the victim’s left wrist. “His watch stopped.”

“Agent Gibbs?”

There were three people standing inside the perimeter of their crime scene, two Air Force lieutenant colonels in uniform and a civilian in a suit.

“That’s me,” said Gibbs, mildly. “And you are?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Carter, United States Air Force,” said the blonde officer, a woman. “And I’m afraid we’re going to have to take over this investigation.”

Gibbs scowled. “You from Special Investigations?”

“In a way, I suppose,” said the civilian. “I’m Daniel Jackson, this is Colonel Mitchell. We’re what you might call ‘experts’.”

“The victim’s a Marine,” said Gibbs. “That puts this case in NCIS jurisdiction.”

“Normally, yes,” agreed Mitchell. “But due to certain highly-classified circumstances, this case has been transferred to the Department of Homew— Home _land_ Security.”

“We’re very sorry,” said Carter, and she actually sounded it. “But we’ll need everything you have. And I mean everything. Reports, evidence, background information…”

“… the late Lance Corporal Fielding,” added Jackson.

“And we’ll also have to request that you not make any more inquiries into this case,” Carter continued. “We’re sure you would have done a thorough investigation yourselves, but I’m afraid this entire case is very, very classified.”

“Hey, boss!” called Tony, jogging up to them with McGee in tow. “We found Fielding’s car. The trunk was full of these weird-looking— Careful, Probie!”

McGee had tripped, losing his grip on the breadbox-sized silver object in his hands. Tony reached out to help him balance it again— and the moment his fingers touched the metal surface, the whole thing lit up bright blue.

“Oh, boy,” muttered Carter.

“What?” said Tony, as he and McGee both froze, hands still on the device. “What just happened? What is this thing? Is it a bomb?”

“No,” said Mitchell. “Well, probably not. Carter?”

“Not a bomb,” she said. “I’m almost entirely sure.”

“See, there you go. Jackson?”

The other man pulled out a cell phone. “I’m gonna go call Jack.”

Still looking a little worried, Tony handed the thing entirely back to McGee, but it stopped glowing the moment he let go. Frowning, he poked it with one finger, and it lit up again.

“Touch activated?” McGee suggested, curiously.

“But _you’re_ touching it, and nothing happens. Hey, Ziva…”

Their partner joined them. She scowled suspiciously at them, but touched the object with one finger. Nothing happened.

“Did you see that, boss?” Tony asked. “It must like me best!”

“It’s because you have the Ancient gene,” said Jackson. He held up his phone, indicating the call he’d just ended. “Jack says he’ll meet us at the Navy Yard, with the nondisclosure agreements, but we can start with a few basics now. Agent Gibbs and his team are to be read into the Program.”

“What program?” Gibbs demanded.

“Well, agents,” said Mitchell, grinning. “Have you ever heard the legend of the Lost City of Atlantis…?”

THE END


End file.
